tales from the surviving straight spouse

Archive for the ‘Politics’ Category

I Wish I was a Bitch

Last night I had the strangest dream.

I was living in the same house with DD.  Our youngest son was there and we were fighting. I had confronted him because his lawyer had told me that he had plans to stab me and I reminded him about duty to warn.  He pointed a shot gun at me and pulled the trigger.  Nothing happened.  Oh, how he laughed.  I told him it wasn’t funny.  I began to pack my bags and leave.  Our youngest son was crying so hard – I couldn’t take him with me, I wasn’t allowed.  When I was at my car, he came running out of the house, very sad and upset.  He had read a letter I had hidden for him and it opened his eyes to how evil he was.  He begged me to stay, saying he would stop being so awful.  I woke up, crying.

Today I received a note from DD requesting that I come to probation with him because they messed up alimony and child support.  His lawyer submitted 3 different court orders that each had to be corrected and refiled for probation to pay for alimony and child support.  His alimony and child support payments were 10-14 days late every payment since June – with one check bouncing.

I think of spending 3 years asking to change the child visitation and six years of asking for the alimony and child support checks.  Only once did he ever actually give me a check on his own – and that was in front of his sister who always was extremely rude to me.  I don’t know what that was about.  I think of our son with his shaved scrotum.  I think of our other son calling me in tears because he’s been left home with his big brother and no adult supervision – again!

I think of all of that and so much more and I wish I was a bitch.  He thinks I’m a bitch – why not just be one…

I’m not, though.  I am me.  I can be annoying, sometimes I talk too much or too loud.  I don’t always make the best intellectual connections that others seem to do so easily.

I will answer tomorrow night sometime.  That’s as bitchy as I can be.

I wish I could get that image of our youngest crying and him holding the shot gun to my chest out of my head.  Now, that is some crazy shit symbolism there.


Sometimes I get sick of me.

The same old story: DD, kids with special needs, snotty town – it becomes tedious, even for me.  My shit really does stink.

So I took a break.

Hi.  I’m back.  The fertilizer continues to propagate.

I saw the Mary Tyler Moore Statue.  I love friends who know that I know that we are so glad we found each other.  I am grateful and though the dance continues with a sickness that I try not to think about, I think overall life isn’t so bad.  Puppies, though piddling, make hearts grow.

Last week I got a call from son#3’s therapist – “I have blah blah blah open please call me back to confirm one of those dates.”

All of the dates are the week that ex husband has son#3 with him.  I text ex husband Son#3 has therapist on blah blah, can I pick him up and take him? no response for a week.

I get a call from the therapist, “I spoke with your ex husband and he is going to bring son#3 on Thursday at 6.  We decided that every other session would be with the other parent.  I hope that is okay with you.”  Of course this is okay!  I want his father involved.  I don’t want this to be about me.  She sounded nervous.  I hate to be paranoid – but I am sure that she is beginning to fall under the DD spell and start to doubt how anything could be wrong with this man.  I trust my supervisor, though and she highly recommended Ms. Peach.  I can only stay calm and focused.

I had to text DD, though:

you could have discussed with me the scheduling of son#3 with Ms. Peach.  I asked you last week about him and you ignored my text.  You don’t have to play games.  I know you need to, but I am doing this for son#3 because he asked – not for me or you.  

I’m not playing games, Ms. Peach insisted that she talk to u.

She told you to ignore my text?

No. She didn’t have the 8/14 @ 2 appt in her book.  I didn’t respond to ur txt b/c I knew I would be discussing all of this with her.  I’m sorry if my waiting to respond to u left u feeling slighted in some way.

Thanks. she didn’t have it in her book because I was waiting on you to respond to my text.  i thought we could talk to each other instead of through Ms. Peach.  If you prefer we can continue to go through her.

No response for a day.  Then this little gem:

I have to leave the house at 7:30 2mrw.   Would u like me to bring the boys over then or would it b easier for u if I brought them over 2nite?  I’m thinking 9pm.  I’d like to do what’s best 4 u.  Tx.

Amazing!  Suddenly he is thinking of me, how incredibly sweet.  It isn’t because he can’t get the boys up in the morning without a battle?  Is this the same man who just lectured his sitter for coming by my house with son#4 to get money I owed her?  Is this the man who said it isn’t appropriate for son#4 to come to my house when it isn’t part of the schedule?  Is this the man who has continuously ignored my texts as part of his games?

I forgot.  Last Friday I received a tearful call from son#4:  “Daddy left me home with big brother.  I don’t want to be home with him.”  I text DD and tell him that son#4 is very upset and it is inappropriate for them to be left alone.  DD calls me (can’t answer a text message)  He is extremely concerned that CPS will be called.    I told him not to worry.  I have given up.  I won’t be calling them any more.  I no longer have the fight in me.  I tell him that it is sad that I get phone calls like this.  DD has been told by so many people to stop leaving the boys alone.  As always, he is above the rules that most people view as logical and safe.

Last Sunday son#2 and son#4 told me that they were going to camp for a week this coming Sunday.  DD got on the phone and told me he had signed them up (without discussing it with me).  He also informed me that he was going to be away and that I would have to take them to camp.  It would never occur to him that perhaps I might have had plans with the boys.  I recall two weeks ago when son #3 was going to camp for two weeks.  I offered to DD to take him since they hadn’t seen each other for a week and he would then be away for another 2 weeks.   I try, seriously to be thoughtful and travel on that high road.

I have a nasty taste in my mouth.  It is the taste of defeat.  It is the taste of playing games.  I was free tonight.  I could have taken the boys, but I thought of all the times I’ve bowed to him.  I told him I had plans and I am up early anyways.  I reminded him to bring the camp gear.  Son#2 calls me in tears, “Daddy says  you aren’t taking us tonight because you have plans.  Don’t you want us to come over?”  I lose again.  It seems as if he manages to make me the bad guy with minimal effort.  I’ve dropped to the low road.  It stinks down here.

Living Irony…Will Anybody Ever Get it????

It was Never About The GAY.

I have a brother who is gay.

I once wondered out loud to one of my other brothers if he knew that this brother was gay.

He was always different – this brother said, his face looking like he smelled something foul.

I was young and didn’t know anyone who was out (though, I am sure I knew many people who were gay then).

Like my ex husband, I know my brother grew up with many fears.  It is common knowledge that my brother got the brunt of my father’s anger.  The family joke is that if we were a  young family today – Child Protective Services would have taken the kids away from my dad.  hahaha ho ho hee hee, what?!  that’s not funny.

Once my dad gave my brother a black eye.  Another time he broke a cutting board over his head.  I wonder if my father saw that he was different, too.  I wonder if my father thought he could change my brother’s course in life.

How vain we parents are!!  Thinking we can mold and shape people into what WE think is best.  Really, we should be teaching our children how to be the best THEY can be, how to love themselves completely, wholly, joyfully.

It’s about the Lying, born from Fear.

My brother lived in fear.  He had a fear of being hit, a fear of continuous rejection and don’t forget the fear of  hell.  My brother and DD were both raised Catholic.  My brother and DD both learned at a very early age that lying would save them from pain.

My brother made some bad choices – but what did he have to lose? – he was already rejected by his father – he never felt quite like he fit in with the rest of the family – but the best choice he ever made was to bravely come out to my parents!

Then they sent him to a therapist to be cured.  Not just any therapist, but Dr. Money of Johns Hopkins.  That didn’t go so well.  Then my brother disappeared.  He has been in and out of my life – but currently for the past seven years has been in.  I am very grateful to have him a part of my life.  I love him more than I can ever explain.  He is a beautiful person – I wish he could see what I see.  I am the only one in my family who speaks to my brother.  Through a series of manipulations there was a final falling out between my brother and my parents.   It breaks my heart.

DD, however – did everything by the book – almost.   He grew up with a distant, abusive father who had his own sexual identity issues.  DD was an altar boy – he knew what happened to people who were gay in the Catholic faith.  He grew up thinking he was evil and he was going to burn in hell.  He tried to fit in, tried to be straight and he lied his way through our initial meeting and right through our marriage.   He got married, went to church, had kids and every social event he was the doting husband and father.  I loved going out – because then I was married to the man I thought I had married.  At home he was a stranger, unhappy with everything, not interested in anything.  It was as if I was in his way.  He wouldn’t speak to me if the television was on.  He waited until there was a commercial break.  He lied until he couldn’t take it any more.  Then he expected me to stay by his side while he figured out who he was and what he wanted.  Coming back from our honeymoon, I knew something was very wrong, but hoped it was just an adjustment period.  Two years into our marriage – I knew if something didn’t change we would be divorced within 10 years.  I was off by 2 years – but sadly correct.

A person can’t change who they are, they can only change their behaviors.

Yet – People Still Don’t Get It

Equality for same sex couples is a vital step to preventing the tragedy of lying, manipulation and anger.  It is the only way we will begin to erase prejudice and hate.

DD is still wrapped up in the fact the I “outed him.”  He has not placed the blame where it belongs – on his family, on society, his religion and his inability to accept himself.  Until everyone who is a consenting adult is accepted for who they are and not judged by what they look like and who they love, we will continue to see families torn apart like mine.

My heart breaks for my parents and my brother.  My brother is funny, interesting, creative and kind – all of the things that my parents are – because they passed that on to him.  He also is gay.  It is who he is, not a choice, not a sin.

My parents don’t see the strength in my brother living the truth.

My parents are quick to point out the cowardice of DD’s lies and manipulation – insisting he should have been truthful.

I once tried to point out to my parents the odd coincidence of my brother’s choices vs. DD’s choices and how their lives played out – they looked at me quizzically what?  one has nothing to do with the other?  what are you trying to say?

I am a living irony.


Note to self…don’t try to jump the gap, especially in the dark.

When I was 14 I spent a week in Queechee, Vermont and met my official first boyfriend.

He hit a double.

On our last night I was going to meet him for some good bye necking.  I walked through the cottages in the dark.  I came to the edge of the grass where the road meets.  I recalled that there was a drainage ditch between the grass line and the road.  In the dark, I jumped.

I woke up, turned and saw the Vermont star filled sky, my head had broken my fall.  You can see the dent when I wrinkle my forehead.

When I think dealing with DD, I am walking in the dark – there are gaps that I need to remember not to jump.

The latest court order stated that I was to receive alimony and child support through probation.  Probation contacted me to let me know I would be receiving child support – apparently the lawyer and DD filled out the paper work, but only included child support.  More games.

I am worn down.  I know I should continue to push, never sit down, never stop taking the crap he continues to throw my way, but I just want to stop.  I don’t though – I keep going.

I send a text.  I get no response.  I start to text back oh, well, I’ve tried.  I will be in contact with the judge and your lawyer.   I don’t because it goes against a main philosophy of mine, which has been always take the high road.

That philosophy doesn’t work.  This is a man who fooled me for 14 years, a man who took berated me when he lost his erection – and never once felt his sexual attraction for men interfered with our sex life.  I took the high road.  I am the epitome of gullibility.  Taking the high road is noble, but sometimes dumb.

Son #4 calls me to ask about spending the night together.  I ask him if his father is around.  I ask him to put me on speaker.

I ask DD if he got my text about probation and child support/alimony.  He said he did.  I asked him what he wanted to do about it.  I wait for an answer before I supply one myself.  He states that he agrees with me.


He says that he is going to contact probation and straighten things out.  This is the first major thing we have agreed upon since our divorce.

I feel a spark.  It is that old hope, that sick hope, that crazy hope.  Hope is the gap in my life.    Then I think of son #2 and the secrets and lies that I lived for over a decade.  I was kept in the dark.  I still am.

I call the judge’s office and leave a message.

No matter how tempting,  I won’t try to jump the gap.  I will not trust.


This Sums it Up for Me.

something to live by

The Snake Smiled

As I was trying to get the cat in a few weeks ago, the mail man announced “right behind you.”  His voice is sweet and kind.

My mail man is cute.  He’s about my age and his eyes sparkle.  I am sure he is taken.

He delivered a letter with a return address from DD’s lawyer, aka The Snake.

Ewww.  This is never good.

It is the documents from Voodoo Dildo Live (also known as the Me Vs DD in court).  I had asked The Snake to forward his handwritten copy of the court orders that following Monday after our Friday court date.  He didn’t.

Instead he waited until they had been officially submitted and signed by the judge.  Of course – there were grave errors.  I sent a letter to the judge and The Snake with the corrections.  I didn’t hear back from The Snake, so I called him 5 days later.  His secretary said they never received my letter.  I faxed the copy immediately.

Four days later I get another letter from The Snake stating that I never sent him the original letter.  He writes that I am trying to rewrite the judge’s decision and that I knew exactly what he had submitted in rough draft after our hearing.

I try to contact DD – does he know that his lawyer is running up the legal fees and eventually the judge will review the record and correct the order.  DD states that he has complete confidence in his lawyer.


Again, I write to the judge and explain how The Snake stated he was in a hurry that day and I agreed to get a copy of the orders after they are submitted – I did a cursory review – why would anyone change a judges orders?

The Snake writes to the judge that I am remembering incorrectly, that I am disrespectful, attempting to ‘re-argue the judge’s most expert decision’  and I am being disparaging to the court and unfair.  The same lawyer who allowed his client to petition to the court that I am an unfit mother and DD should have his sons full time – with only every other weekend for me.

Sometimes I am disturbed by my own gullibility.  Strangely, there is a part of me that likes to be naive – it is that part that cultivates hope.  It is what makes me dangerously unique.

Once again, I am on the phone with the judge’s office.  I am afraid of authority – I think that I will be made to pay in some horrible way for ‘bugging them’ – even if the truth is on my side.  I find it hard to speak to the law clerk without crying.  She assures me that the judge will just review the tapes of the hearing and make necessary changes.  I thank her profusely and tell her that this is all I needed to know.

Almost 2 months later, DD had to ask The Snake to make yet another correction.  Interesting that the best law firm in the area has such a stubborn foolish lawyer – voted “Rising Star” the past two years.  Just wait until I report him to the Bar Association – I hear a fizzle.